Monthly Archives: June 2009

The Great Escape

Christine gave me Patrick Watson tonight.  Very Jack Johnson-esque with a hint of … well, something else, something edgier.  In any event, he is my blog-writing soundtrack this fine evening as he + Sam’s Cherry Wheat = reflectiony Linda.  The Great Escape takes the cake.

So. What’s up, you ask?  Well, plenty.  I’m not even sure where to start.  I guess here, if anything.  I feel like this theme for my blog is cheating.  The misty/autumn look screams Chris.  I know it’s something I can incorporate into my own world as I also like that “look,” but when I turn to face my dragon jewelry box and my fairy tile wall hangings and purchase acrylic paints and when I watch Legend of the Seeker, I wonder what happened to me.  This wasn’t me pre-Chris, but even if he weren’t around, would the Astorians have done this to me anyway?  Was it always inside of me, waiting to come out?  I’m sad, though.  Sad because when I received all of these things that remind me of him, I can instantaneously recall the feeling that accompanied the receipt.  I was hoping I could impress him. …Maybe that was just it; he became my dad, someone that was missing from my life.  Then all I wanted to do was impress him.  So do I still like playing WoW every now and again because I truly like it, or because I think someday I’ll be good, and Chris will be proud of me, because he made me?  Would it just be better to remove all things that might be remotely related to him; take out the least common denominator?  I don’t know.  I just can’t separate what I will truly be deprived of from what I have convinced myself I’d be deprived of, but only because I don’t feel like giving something up because of him.  I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to do that, either.

This is the problem with being 80 different “selves” and no one single one.  I love a little bit of everything and could never commit to being passionate about anything.  Looks like a life theme, if you ask me.  Just a week ago I was wondering if I’d made the right decision choosing developmental psychology instead of clinical.  Then Dr. Carr died, and my first thought was, “go with Autism.”  I read his book as though I was in the room with those people trying to determine what would be best for each child.  Then the class ended, and all I could remember was I imagined it would be kind of scary to have to go through.  And I remembered why I wanted to go to school for psychology–because I could read people.  But in going for the ABA/PSB stuff, I’m fairly certain I have to go through the clinical process as well, so maybe retaking Mood Disorders is a good idea… heh.

I’m skipping past something very important though: Dr. Carr’s death.  He and his wife, Ilene Wasserman, were killed by a drunken 66-year old driver in Wading River.  The murderer was out wine tasting.  I’m completely devastated about this whole ordeal, but what makes it worse was my own almost DWI.  That eye-opening experience was enough to keep the drinking to a minimum when driving was in my future.  I learned a lesson, but this guy?  Learned it the very hard way, not even just the jail-time/license-revocation way.  And the world is now deprived of two phenomenal psychologists.

I’m going to toss in here future goals/plans because they need to be … written down somewhere…

1. Diet/exercise week begins Monday.  Eat a little better and do some form of exercise every other day.  This may be short-lived, but Im’a friggen try.
2. Be a good girlfriend. This entails making an effort for a guy that is playing the role of Linda in the relationship while I play the role of Chris.  If he says “I love you” at six months, I might die.  (For those that might find this, I KID.  Lighten the fuck up.)
3. Look into employment at DDI.  Contact people.  See what I might be able to obtain for a comparative salary.  Suffolk Center is driving me to drink…and smoke…and contemplate suicide.  (See? Would I really fucking mean that? Chill. Out.)  But in all honestly I’m not kidding when I say it’s sucking out my soul through my nostril.
4. Look into ABA/PBS and Developmental Psych stuff and Clinical Psych stuff and see what I need to look into to pursue this career.  This might take a few days total, so I should really consider it.
5. Start LVDF project with Sue.  A few hours a week should be all it takes, so I really need to make an effort to find that time.
6. Finish my “room work” by the end of the summer.  Mikey will help, just ask/invite.  Maybe start tomorrow or Sunday.
7. Stop thinking up things to add to this list.  Six things really isn’t good enough? Ewwwww!

Haha, remember when “Ew!” was popular in, like, middle or high school? …yeah, me either.

I’d like to thank WordPress and Jesse for turning this frown upside-down!  (Did I really just write that?)


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The following came from the other blog I started, but don’t feel like signing out of my gmail just to write in:

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Hahahaha. Kill. Your. Selves.

Dear Rob & Liz,

Grow the fuck up. You’re both gonna be 30 in a year or two. Try acting any age over 15.


Burned Bridge

Posted by Ciara Starling at 3:07 AM 0 comments


Friday, June 5, 2009

An emotional start.

I’m not even sure when I created this blog, but I get the feeling logging into gmail as SuperLinda (after reading yesterday that Julie’s email address is SuperJules…) and finding it already here, no posts yet, is the “right track.” Sure, I can’t be signed into my regular gmail at the time, but who cares anymore; there’s no one on gmail to “stalk” these days anyone. Chris, Rachel & Douchebag in Disguse (should I change his name back to Sam now that I told Mike I was “over it”?) are on “never show” now, so I don’t even notice if they’re there or not.

In any event, this isn’t about any of them. This is about me, and the people in my life now. Granted, this is a little easier to find than I was hoping, but I like Blogger. Though I did enjoy my politics blog that I never actually got around to writing. I think that one was on WordPress.

Anyways, tonight one of my friends became friends with Chris. I found this weird, because she really has no connection to him, save for meeting him once, weeks before we split up and then randomly passing him on a NYC street. I suppose ultimately I don’t really care, but…why??? Why do I feel like everyone is fucking with me today/recently? I get a FB message from Brian (Liz’s ex-but-not-really) just in a “hey what’s up with youuu?” kinda way. I’m not the petty, pathetic bitch Liz expects me to be, so I’m clearly not responding. It’s not even from him; it’s from her. She knows his passwords; she’s told me that one. She just wants to see if I’ll talk to “Brian” to get her back for deciding to “drop” me in favor of Rob. DIAF, all of you. Please.

On a happier note, I watched Meet the Robinsons for the first time today, and by the end of that flick I was crying. Not because life sucks, or because I’m sad about something–because I feel like I’m doing things right for a change. I have a family that loves me–we’re even planning a trip to PA for two days which I’m skipping the first day of school for–and a brother that makes me smile better than anyone I’ve ever known. I have cheap housing and minimal expenses in life (I pay for my car, gasoline, food, drink, some electricity and my computer. School is on loan, my dad pays for my house and my phone, my mother does my laundry and I think that makes me pretty lucky. I have a job that pays me well and enough work to keep the hours up, despite the early death it will bring me. I’m going to school and I’m looking to not stop–that’s more than most people can say. I have a best friend that is my absolute soul mate–we could spend weeks not talking but it wouldn’t matter; we’re sisters. I finally found a great guy that is a not only a good person, but an affectionate one and someone I’m comfortable with. It just…fell into place.

My mother and I had this conversation a few weeks ago about how I would “know” and she would “know” when the guy I found was the right one. Good sign A: she likes Mikey. Good sign B: this feels more right than anyone else I’ve dated. Maybe I say that at the beginning of all my relationships, but there’s only been two to three serious ones ever. The thing is, if I look back on things I wrote back at the beginning on my relationships, they’d read happy, because I was. But with every word I used to write, I still knew something was wrong. I don’t feel that way here, not yet. As a matter of fact I changed my FB status to “in a relationship” today, because, whether I actually am or not, I don’t need people thinking otherwise, and it’s fairly safe to say both Mikey and I actually want to be in a relationship. You don’t tell someone you’re not really interested in that you miss them…unless, of course, you’re Sam…and even then my response was, “does that actually work?” See? I’m pretty smart. S’why I hope I’m right this time. Again, it feels like I’ve done something very right.

Posted by Ciara Starling at 11:25 PM 0 comments

Good thing I have an alias, huh?  Just call me…echo.

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The real "good bye"?

“Let it go,
Let it roll right off your shoulder
Don’t you know
The hardest part is over
Let it in,
Let your clarity define you
In the end
We will only just remember how it feels

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain

Let it slide,
Let your troubles fall behind you
Let it shine
Until you feel it all around you
And i don’t mind
If it’s me you need to turn to
We’ll get by,
It’s the heart that really matters in the end

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain

All of my regret
Will wash away some how
But i can not forget
The way i feel right now

In these small hours
These little wonders
These twists & turns of fate
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away but these small hours
These small hours, still remain,
Still remain
These little wonders
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away
But these small hours
These little wonders still remain”

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Screw it.

So much for my farewell, yeah?

I don’t care at the moment who reads this. I’ve been drinking some wine, and I’m going to write one of my Daily Spark journals.

Task: “What was your most humiliating junior high experience? Write a short, possibly funny, description of it.”

I’m not entirely sure I had one humiliating junior high experience that stands out above the rest. I feel like Frost Valley probably ices the cake, if anything. I opted to go on a nature-trip with all of the other honors eighth graders, packing my baggy red jeans and NYR boxers, which, for some reason I wore proudly like a boy. I proceeded to get my period on the trip, and tell just about everyone. Then I refused to participate in most things, got angry at the romances on the trip (Bess & Mark playing frisbee?! WTF?!) and sulked most of the time. I honestly don’t remember much about the trip, save for the compost smelled funny and I was at a very awkward age. Our room named our toilet bowls Joan and Jane Flushing. ‘Nuff said.

Oh eighth grade, you amuse me.

‘Night, kiddies.

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all good things must come to an end.

Dear everyone that reads this,

Those of you that have understood me, and know how I work, and can read everything I’ve written accurately, thank you. You’ve made my blogging experience worthwhile.

Those of you that asked me questions when I was difficult to understand, so you could keep my life straight in your head, thank you too. I’m fascinated that you were interested enough in the first place, let alone enough to make a clearer picture.

Those of you that did neither of the above, and simply chose to create drama based on something you neither understood nor knew nothing about, shame on you. I sincerely hope someone creates trouble for you after misunderstanding you and not being intelligent enough to find out any additional information. ‘Cause you know what? That’s extremely frustrating.

So, to keep the b/s to a minimum, goodbye my favorite blog evar. If you seriously want to read what I have to write/say, you can either become a master of the internets and e-stalk Google until you find me or you can ask me for my new blog information. Otherwise: problem. fucking. solved.

In conclusion:
Alex and I finally did have that talk I had mentioned I wanted to have, and as it turns out, I was pretty off. The only “information” she actually had for me was some hearsay that she classified as such and a lack of opinion/judgment because she doesn’t/didn’t know MD at all. So all of that “bad people” stuff I had mentioned was, a) the way I talk (I call people “bad people,” but don’t actually think they’re bad; I just like the way that sounds); and b) based solely off of things that are inadmissible because they’re either not firsthand or from forever ago. What she wound up telling me was that she had no opinion, because she had nothing to go on, but she would be happy for me regardless of what decision I made, so long as I was happy. That’s why she’s my friend. Because she’s just amazing like that.

What hurts me most in the situation that unfolded because of a passing statement I made that was both fundamentally incorrect and never followed-up on, is that one of the people I love and am finally getting to see more often, got hurt by this. No one thought to ask me what it meant, or why I said it, or if it actually meant anything to me. What I find baffling though, was that after it was written, I didn’t change anything. Did I stop talking to or seeing MD? If Alex’s opinion was my driving motivation for follow-through, wouldn’t I have been like, “aw, fuck this; she don’t like him? I’m outtie.”? I mean really. Am I that pathetic a person that I would take someone else’s opinion and make it mine? I’ve spent all of my life proud that I don’t do that. And what were those words I said less than twenty-four hours ago? “Even if he didn’t like you, I don’t care. It’d just mean I couldn’t talk to him about you.” Yeah. That’s how I roll.

But instead, I’m spending my Monday evening writing a fucking farewell blog because I can’t seem to write down thoughts without someone coming at me with intent to wound. Here’s a tip for those people: if you ever want me to disappear, just continue to create drama. I’d much rather drop the people in my life that are involved than I would live with it. I will do everything I can to avoid it, so if you want me to go away, create it, ’cause I will be gone faster than you can finish your next uninformed potential lie.

Lastly: I’m dating MD. I’ve managed not to use his name, because, well, basically I don’t think he’d prefer it coming up in a Google search on him later. But there it is: I’m dating him. Because I want to, and because he wants to date me, and because I enjoy the time I’ve spent with him thus far. Whatever happens, happens. If I’ve made it through James, Rob, Chris and Sam, I can make it through fucking anything.

Starting a new blog somewhere else from scratch might be good for me anyway. I can write without bias, knowing nobody I’m dating, have dated or am close (or not so close) friends with will be reading it. Ultimately, I do this for me anyway. So goodbye cruel world. Good luck in all of your endeavors.

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